


Icing on the Cake

by Shamione



Series: Dramione One Shots [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Doggy Style, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Finger Sucking, Gratuitous Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Ice Cream, Ice Cream Parlors, In Public, Light Dom/sub, Passion, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26593777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamione/pseuds/Shamione
Summary: What happens when Hermione asks her rather horny husband Draco Malfoy why he refuses to call her by her given name? Will he willingly utter her name? Or will he make it hard?Or - the one where they rough bang in a public ice cream shop.PWP - Rated E for a reason.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Dramione One Shots [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872553
Comments: 20
Kudos: 225
Collections: Completed/Downloaded/Read Works, Farewell to Summer: The 31 Flavors of Smut





	Icing on the Cake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FaeOrabel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeOrabel/gifts).



> The one-shot was written for Farewell to Summer: 31 Flavours of Smut fest by [KoraKwidditch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoraKwidditch/pseuds/KoraKwidditch), [FaeOrabel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeOrabel/pseuds/FaeOrabel), [WordsmithMusings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsmithMusings/pseuds/WordsmithMusings).
> 
>  **The prompt for my story is:** Icing on the Cake flavor and Rough Sex.
> 
> Wrote this one in like two hours so forgive any mistakes.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.R. and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Granger, I don't know why you insist on working in this icebox every weekend."

"You know Florean is getting old."

"And why do you think that is your responsibility?"

"I'm merely nice, Draco. I love this place. We did have our first date here."

He grinned, the beautiful upturn of his lips nearly snatching her breath away. "I am aware, Granger."

"And I don't know why you still insist on calling me Granger. Two children and fourteen years of marriage, and you refuse to call me by my given name."

Hermione scoffed light-heartedly, gazing over the sneeze shield at her husband - the only patron in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor at midday. The commotions of a bustling Diagon Alley flitted through the glass windows, filling a nearly silent void that was the frigid shop. An hour had passed since her last patron, the cold temperature outside not drawing a mass allure for ice cream.

Draco looked bored, drumming his fingers on the plexiglass, his lips cocked into a slightly arrogant smirk that she'd grown to love. One that echoed on both of her son's faces every time all three found themselves scolded for flying brooms in the Manor. Or one of the numerous other methods of mischiefs in which they managed to entangle themselves.

"I do call you by your given name," he smirked heatedly.

"Outside of the bedroom, Malfoy."

He stalked around the counter then, his stature enveloping her as he forced his hands down on the counter, caging her in. The heat of his aura kissed hers as his hips pressed into her, and she could feel the subtle stiffness of his apparent, insatiable arousal gradually roaring to life.

"I can call you by your name outside the bedroom, Granger," he growled, another thrust of his hips ripping a low moan from her lips. "I can scream it right here, right now."

"Draco, no…" she whimpered. "I'm working."

The thick heat of his cock pressed against her arse was like a white-hot fire burning against the polar vortex of the store. If her nipples weren't already alert from the frigid temperature, his firm grasp on her breasts would have done the trick as he forced his hands beneath her cotton shirt. Kneading roughly. The calloused fingers of a seasoned Auror sending a frisson down her spine.

"You're volunteering."

"The kids," she moaned, his fingers pinching her nipples roughly. "They'll be here soon."

He leaned in impossibly closer, nails digging into her bust as his teeth sank into her neck. And where most women would suffer mortification, she only felt the rapture of desire race deep into her core—heightened by the firm indentions of his teeth against her throat and the witches and wizards strolling by the shop windows.

His teeth dragged along her skin, pausing by her ear with a deep growl. "Then I suggest you come quickly."

The stiff hand that pressed into the middle of her back was electric as he shoved her down, chest slamming against the cold counter before her. He wasted no time with her skirt, flipping it up just enough to expose her arse. She felt the fabric of her knickers rip against her skin, the roughness upon her clit making her whimper with desperation.

He didn't finger her, didn't press a firm tongue through her folds like he so often effortlessly did. He merely whispered an incantation, and the warmth of lubricant spread through her slit and through her soul. The rock of his pelvis against her clit was like a jolt of fresh electricity across her skin, a bud of deep desire bubbling low in her abdomen.

And it was carnal as he slid his cock along her slit, thrusting into her as if his life depended on it. As if someone pausing to watch them through the glass would only make him happy. Would only provoke the euphoria of their fast fuck that much sweeter.

It was hot. Heavy. Utterly thrilling - furious yet crammed with the same passion that traced every single one of their interactions.

His hand fisted in her hair, tugging back coarsely as she wailed her approval. The tension upon her curls within his fingers made her body grow taut with greed, her fingers scrambling to find anything to grasp. Her chest rose off the counter, chin rising to applaud the gods for letting him be hers. For letting them come together all those years ago in this same spot. 

And when her mouth fell open in a raucous moan, his fingers slipped in. A sweetness worked over her taste buds, the delectable flavor of cake batter working against her senses as he hooked his fingers against her cheek and tugged. Fingers holding her jaw wide as he fucked her against the metal counter, pain digging a pleasurable sensation against her hips.

"How does it taste, Hermione?"

She could scarcely speak over her moans, her cries of bliss an apparently acceptable answer as his husky chuckle licked across her skin.

His pace grew punishing then, and she welcomed it. Pleaded for it. Begged him to fill her, echos ricocheting off the glass panels as she cried his name. Begging him to fuck her harder. To make her world shatter around his stiff arousal.

The force of her sudden orgasm thrust her onto her toes, her legs quivering, nearly buckling as his hand left her mouth and slipped around her waist—her cries as frantic as the fingers that clutched the counter.

And with three rapid thrusts, his movements halted, his groaned "Hermione" filling the shop as her fluttering walls milked him for everything he was worth.

They stood for a moment, and his head pressed to the back of hers as his arms encircled her waist. He peppered steady kissing into her curls, and her panted chuckles drew the same from his lips as he righted.

"That was -"

"That was just the icing on the cake, Malfoy," he purred, wand waving a warmth of a cleansing charm over her core before he smacked her arse, stepping back. "Better get yourself cleaned up. You're working, for Merlin's sake."


End file.
